“Not even my grandpa or my uncle guessed that Mom wasn’t nearly as tough as she looked,” Emma said. “Not only wasn’t she the town slut, she’d never had sex in her life until the night she got pregnant with me.”
Jared sensed where the story was heading. Wished he could stop her. Stop her from talking about it, stop her from knowing what had happened.
“My father was some big-deal jock. The captain of the football team. He took her out on a date, then up to this make-out place back home and she thought…well. She thought he loved her. He wanted sex. She wasn’t ready. When she said no, he raped her.”
Jared couldn’t breathe, imagining Emma at sixteen, so innocent, so loving, hearing about how she’d come to be. An incident so brutal, so full of betrayal it had to brand itself forever in her darkest dreams. She glanced up at him, as if she’d heard his thoughts, as if she knew how much he hurt for her.
“Sometimes I still have nightmares about my mom trapped in that car, trying to fight him, get him off of her.” Emma swallowed hard. Jared could almost feel her gorge rise. “I can feel him…hurting her,” she said. “And then, how scared she must have been when she felt me growing inside her.”
Davey stared at her, anguish and understanding stark in his face. Silent. Why the hell wouldn’t he be? Jared thought. There wasn’t a damned comforting thing to say.
“It hurts so bad, you know?” Emma confided, looking from one to the other. “I wish…wish I could just wipe all Mom’s pain away. I still wonder how she could ever love me so fiercely in spite of all that.”
Jared didn’t wonder at all. How could anyone not love Emma, down to the last atom of their heart?
Emma hugged herself tight. Jared wanted to slip his own arms around her, knew he didn’t dare. She was drawing on every bit of her strength, reliving her private hell for Davey’s sake. She had to stand through this alone.
“Mom says she loves me, not in spite of what I did to her life,” Emma said, “but because of it. She had to fight for survival for both of us. She told me the most beautiful thing, Davey, the day all hell broke loose and she had to tell me about the rape. The bright thing, the real thing I take out and hold when the dark of my father gets too heavy to bear. Mom said…” Emma’s voice hitched. “She said I was the making of her. The magic of it is that I can look back over all those years Mom and I struggled and survived and I know it’s true.”
Davey scraped the back of his arm across his eyes. “My mum loves me. But she’s scared for me. I see it, sometimes. She doesn’t want me to hope for too much out of life. That’s what made my dad angry, she said. Wanting things he could never have.”
Jared thought of Angus Butler’s rugged face, his callused, laborer’s hands that had never been too busy to untangle a fishing line, never lashed out in anger at a child or a woman. Angus, who loved and hoped and dreamed in the face of all the world had done to harden his heart.
Jared’s eyes burned. How many times had professors and colleagues called him brilliant—Dr. Jared Butler, a master in his field? So why had he been too damned brainless to realize how damned lucky he was to have a father like that?
“You know what I used to do?” Davey whispered, reaching for Emma’s hand. Emma enclosed it tenderly in hers, feathering her healing touch over the scar on the boy’s pale wrist, evidence of Davey’s quiet despair.
“What?” she asked.
“I’d pretend I was Dr. Butler’s son. In the summer it almost seemed real. But then, when I started loving Beth…it all came back. You know? My real dad, with his fists like hammers and…I couldn’t pretend anymore. I had to see things for real, and know how…how bad it would be if she found out the truth. That’s when I knew what Mum meant…about wanting something…too much. I can’t have her, Emma. Not ever. She’d find out someday and…”
“And what?”
“She wouldn’t want me. How could she want me?” Davey pulled away from her, clenched his hands into fists, misery gray in his face.
“You don’t know that,” Emma said. “She loves you.”
“They’re only nineteen,” Jared protested, not even sure that he meant it as an excuse anymore.
“That doesn’t mean their love isn’t real,” Emma said. She took the boy in her arms, hugged him tight, then drew away, gazing into his eyes with pure love, utter faith. “Davey, I can’t promise you Beth will be strong enough or wise enough to know how lucky she is to have won a heart like yours. But sometime you’re going to have to take a chance. Tell someone you love the truth or else your father wins.”
Jared winced. Damn her for being right.
“Talk to Beth,” Emma said.
“It’s too late. I acted like…like such a jerk. Emma, I shoved her away from me in front of everybody, made her cry.”
“Your boss here has made me cry a time or two.” Emma flashed Jared a glance. “Not when he was looking, of course.”
“Of course,” Jared said, hating the fact that it was true.
“What will I tell her?”
“Do you love her?” Emma asked.
“I do.”
“Then tell her all of it,” Emma urged.
“Maybe that’s not such a good idea,” Jared began but his protest was lost in Davey’s reply.
“No! I can’t! Not yet…” Panic flared in the boy’s eyes. “Just thinking of people here knowing…” He shuddered, looking so damned young, so damned brittle it scared the hell out of Jared.
Emma just hugged the boy closer. “You don’t have to tell Beth right now if you aren’t ready. Your secret’s safe for as long as you need it to be.”
“Safe? It’s never safe. Not for Mum or me. It’s always there, on the edges, waiting to come out…”
Emma’s gaze darkened with understanding. And Jared thought of the weight she’d carried all these years. The dread that must always haunt her, that scavenging pigs like Joel Feeny might stumble onto the truth about her own father and make it front-page news.
“No one here knows about your father but Emma and I,” Jared said. “And we’ll never tell a soul.”
“Never,” Emma said, giving Jared a solemn smile. “Can I give you just one more bit of advice, Davey? Because I love you so much?”
She did love the boy, Jared knew, a lump in his throat. It was in every line and curve of her beautiful face. Davey flushed, nodded.
“Just make sure that when the truth does come out to the woman you love, it comes straight from you. My mom’s courage in revealing her secret to me is something I’ll never forget.”
“But once she told you, then you had that burden to carry,” Jared objected. “Something you couldn’t ever put down.”
Emma shrugged. “Not talking doesn’t change the truth. It gives the dark things more power. In the end, I was glad my mom told me about what happened to her. It hurt to know…but she didn’t have to carry that horror around with her anymore, all alone. I knew the truth and Jake, my stepfather, knew. Uncle Cade and Aunt Finn and my grandpa. We shared the pain of it, divided the sadness. That’s part of loving someone. Letting them see the ugly bits.”
“Nothing is ugly about either one of you,” Jared bristled.
Davey rolled his eyes. “This from the guy who thinks mummies are beautiful.” Jared’s throat constricted with gratitude, seeing Davey’s spirit come back to him.
Emma laughed.
Davey’s answering smile faded, his features dead serious. “I still don’t know if I can risk it,” he said. “Tell Beth my father’s a murderer…like you told Dr. Butler and me about your mom.”
“If Beth is worth loving, it will only make her admire you more. The way you’ve struggled, triumphed, in spite of everything. But you’ve got plenty of time to decide. Tell her when you’re ready.” Emma brushed the lank hair back from Davey’s forehead. “There is one thing I need to ask you before you go.”
“What’s that?”
“To keep my story secret, even from Beth.”
Davey nibbled a
t a hangnail, doubt clouding his eyes. Jared could almost hear the boy thinking. Hadn’t Emma just said that secrets were ugly things? Talking about them stole their power?
“I’m not ashamed of who I am, Davey,” Emma said firmly. “If the story only concerned me, I wouldn’t care if you told Beth what happened to my mom. But people I love would be hurt if that tale went public. My mom and Jake. My little sister.”
Jared thought of the family in the purple glitter frame, knew just how much Emma loved them, how deeply she must fear for them. The risk she’d taken in trying to make Davey Harrison’s heart whole.
“And my birth father—” Emma said. “He’d be damaged by the story, too.”
“You want to protect the guy who raped your mom?” Davey exclaimed, amazed.
Jared stared at her, stunned. He figured with Emma’s temper she would have handed the guy his front teeth.
But Emma only shrugged, looking a little sad, a lot disillusioned. “He asked me to meet with him once when he was flying through L.A. a few years ago. He’s not evil, you know? Just kind of…pathetic. Said that he’s sorry. He was just a stupid kid. Well, rape’s rape, right? What he was really scared of was that I’d announce the story to the press. He didn’t want his wife and daughters to know. It didn’t take me long to figure out that’s what the whole ‘come meet your daddy’ bit was about.”
“The selfish son of a bitch!” Jared muttered.
“I got through the meeting just fine,” Emma assured him. “I just hit instant replay on the scene Drew described to me from the night of Mom’s class reunion. The guy announced he was going to move back to Whitewater, where my mom would have to see him every day. Jake took a baseball bat to good old Dr. Farrington’s Porsche in the parking lot. And guess what? Daddy dearest changed his mind.”
Jared liked Emma’s stepfather already. At least he would like Jake, once he stopped setting Emma up with those irritating bodyguard/this-is-not-a-date deals. But that wouldn’t happen anytime soon, since the woman still needed the protective escorts Jake provided. In fact, Jared thought grimly, once audiences saw Emma’s brilliant portrayal of Lady Aislinn, she’d need protection more than ever.
“I’ll never tell anyone,” Davey promised with aching sincerity. “I swear, Emma. And never…never tell anyone about me either, promise? About my dad? I’d die if…if the whole world knew I was his son. I still wish there was some magic, you know? To make that part of me go away.”
Jared looked at the boy he loved, humbled by all Emma had given him, wanting to give Davey something to carry away as well.
“Davey,” Jared said gruffly. “You’re not his son. Not anymore.”
Emma and Davey turned to look at him. Jared took a penknife from his desk, flicked it open, then slit his own palm. Pain burned away the darkest shadows on his heart.
“Jared!” Emma cried. “What on earth?”
“What did you do that for?” Davey exclaimed, stunned.
“You’re not that bastard’s boy,” Jared said through clenched teeth. “Not anymore. You’re mine from now on. You understand?”
Jared took Davey’s hand in his, made a gentle nick in the boy’s skin. Jared watched a bead of blood well up, then pressed their two cuts together. “When you think of a father’s blood inside you from now on, lad, you think of me.”
Davey stared at the place where their wounds were joined, a drop of blood trickling, red against Jared’s skin. Davey’s smile dawned, so bright it almost blinded him. “I love you, Dr….uh, sir.”
“I love you, too, son,” Jared rasped. Davey hugged him fiercely, then swept Emma into a bone-crushing embrace.
“Emma,” the lad choked. “I don’t…know what to say.”
“Don’t waste your time talking to me!” She kissed him fiercely on the cheek. “Go find Beth! Tell her you love her. Even if you aren’t ready to tell her about your father yet, those three words can heal more wounds than you’ll ever know.”
Davey bolted out the door they’d left open, the portal swinging wildly on its hinges as he clattered down the metal stairs in search of the girl he loved. Jared watched him go, wondering at a night that had seen so many changes it seemed to last a thousand years.
Jared braced himself on the doorframe, drinking in a lungful of sweet Scottish air, watching shadows shift in the night. A shape moved off in another direction, some night creature finished hunting, heading back to find his mate. Like Jared had, somehow, if he only dared believe it.
He turned from the star-spangled night back to Emma. She sagged against the wall, her hair a straggly mess, bruised circles under eyes far too raw from secrets stripped bare.
She’d never looked more beautiful to him.
“What you said to Davey…” she breathed. “About loving him, and…” She took Jared’s hand in both of hers and gently kissed the wound he’d made. Salt stung the cut. The sting, Jared knew, came from Emma’s tears. Washing wounds away. Tears of healing, tears of sacrifice, tears of love.
“You are such a fine man, Jared Butler,” she whispered. “A true knight, slaying Davey’s dragons. I wish I could give you something even half as precious in return.”
Jared stared down into Emma’s face, thought of Davey’s courage, the chance the boy was willing to take for the girl he loved. Jared remembered the fierce determination in Emma when she’d insisted she wouldn’t let Davey be like Jared—shutting himself off from love.
Maybe it was time Jared took his own leap of faith. Stepped out of the cave where he’d buried his emotions so long. Let Emma and Davey lead him toward something brighter.
“How about we face down some dragons of our own?” Jared asked her, stroking her hair. “What do you say I go to this party of yours?”
“You’d go to the charity event?” she asked, so carefully it made his heart ache. “With all those people screaming and the whole media circus? It’s going to be insane.”
“Are you trying to get me to change my mind? Because if you don’t want me to go, just tell me.”
“No. That’s not it at all.” She looked suddenly serious, bruised, as if remembering old wounds. “It’s just, it can be so overwhelming. Once you’re officially linked to me, you’ll be big news, at least for a little while. People prying into your life, asking questions, poking around. It’s possible they’ll dig up things you—you’ve tried to bury. Your mother leaving. Jenny’s plane crash.”
“Maybe they won’t,” he said. And yet, the possibility seared like acid. His past, exposed….
“It’s a risk, Jared. One bigger than you know.”
God, don’t look at me like that! he thought. For the first time fear haunted his valiant Emma’s eyes. Don’t let me fail her, he prayed. The way he had failed Jenny. The way he’d failed his father.
He hid the hammering doubts behind a shield of humor. “I don’t suppose I can wear my cargo pants? I’m a firm believer in that Thoreau quote: Beware of any enterprise that requires new clothes.”
“I don’t care what you wear, as long as you’re there with me,” Emma choked out, tears shimmering again in her eyes.
“Then what’s this all about?” He scooped the drop from her lashes.
“I’m just—just scared. The press takes things you don’t want to give them, Jared.”
“I’m not afraid.” He echoed what she’d said to him hours before. But it wasn’t true. He was just more afraid of losing her without ever trying to make their relationship work.
She cupped the rough skin of his cheek with her palm and he knew she’d left her handprint on his heart. “Just don’t hate me, Jared. I couldn’t bear for you to hate me because of what they might say.”
Davey’s feelings, Davey’s fears. Fears she’d sought to comfort.
“What the press does or says isn’t your fault, Emma. You’re not responsible. And as for hating you? I could never—”
She pressed her hand to his lips, cutting off the words. “Don’t say ‘never.’ I’ve heard never so many times befo
re. Just promise it won’t change the way you look at me. The way it changed Drew.”
“I’m not Drew.”
“No.” She peered up at him with eyes that spoke of coming home. “No,” she said with certainty, moving into his arms. “You’re so much more.”
She burrowed against him, trusting him, believing in him, all the way down to her beautiful soul. He felt her to the core of his own.
It wasn’t as if he were promising her forever. It was only one night in a tux and dress shoes that would probably pinch his feet. And the possibility of fielding a few questions he’d rather not face. How would she react if he asked for more? Asked her to stay with him? Told her how he felt.
A fragment of a Burns poem his father often read aloud whispered through Jared’s memory, the familiar lines biting deep with new meaning, terrors, hopes.
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Til all the seas gang dry.
Til all the seas gang dry my dear,
And the rocks melt wi the sun.
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run…
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remember the children she wanted. Could Jared ever dredge up enough courage to give them to her?
No, the old voice cried out inside him.
I don’t know, a more honest one echoed. And yet, he’d meant what he’d said to Davey, taken the wounded boy as the son of his heart.
It’s not going to matter whether or not you’ve the courage to breed! a voice disturbingly like Snib MacMurray’s mocked in his head. Once the woman takes you out in public she may never speak to you again. What will a plain Scottish bogtrotter like you have in common with the folks that will fill up that fancy room?
Emma will be there, Jared answered fiercely, and just the sight of her will fill up the heart of me with more than I can hold.
This is a mistake, Snib warned. One giant massacre at Culloden Moor of a mistake.
He’s wrong, Jared’s father’s voice echoed in reply. Not loving, son. Now that would be a mistake worth fearing….